


frost that thaws fire

by zolarnite



Series: dreamnotfound delicious drabbles [1]
Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF, dreamnotfound - Fandom
Genre: Alternate Universe - Superheroes/Superpowers, Cute, Domestic Bliss, Domestic Fluff, Dream has ice powers, George is a Hot boy, M/M, Minor Injuries, missing each other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-03
Updated: 2020-12-03
Packaged: 2021-03-09 19:54:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,576
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27861898
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zolarnite/pseuds/zolarnite
Summary: Just a snowy winter day in the life of the Frostwalker and his Firelight.(dreamnotfound as domestic superheroes)
Relationships: Clay | Dream/GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF)
Series: dreamnotfound delicious drabbles [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2039774
Comments: 2
Kudos: 135





	frost that thaws fire

**Author's Note:**

> This was a drabble based off of these two pieces of art, please check out their art, it's so gud!
> 
> [Dream Frostwalker profile art](https://twitter.com/Junyx_the_pasta/status/1331283398976020487?s=20)
> 
> [Dream Frostwalker fanart](https://twitter.com/Junyx_the_pasta/status/1331036596972494860?s=20)

The ice crackled and spikes of pure glass formed, air and water swirling a storm of flakes. The shards of tiny spikes fall flat against the fabric of a gray fleece. Some gently flit down to the fingertips of pale skin, brightening. The flakes don’t melt as the fingers wiggle, gathering the blowing wind and sweeping up the snow in puff clouds. The fingers’ palm is covered in cloth and the palm closes, crushing the flakes that rested in them, dispersing into dust. 

The man rolls his shoulders, the wind still whipping around him but he hums happily, not minding the cold frost that sticks to him. His fingers, which should be red and stiff from the snow, stay pale and smooth, freezing colder than the flakes that flock around him. 

They call him the Frostwalker, cold, icy and elegant. The legend himself was described as a man who wore a green hood that only draped across his torso, fur fluffed and soft. At his wait hung belts and straps, some also wung across his body, holding potions of various kinds. His arms were covered in a thin layer of gray fleece, reaching to his wrists that only ever his shown when he drew his bow, delicate. The fingerless gloves serve as the purpose of comfort more than protection when the man uses his ice spiked bow, glistening and sharp. His face, covered with a smiley mask, white and unblemished like his creations; only his pale blonde hair tussles about when the hood falls away. 

The Frostwalker, known to many, but acquaintances with few, wanders the snowy hills, making his way towards a column of dark smoke in the distance. His bow is hidden within the folds of white as he swings his ice forged axe onto his shoulder, a string in his other hand that is dragging a deer behind, leaving a stark red trail. 

As he nears the cottage that comes into view, warmth blooms in his chest and he starts to sing, the words clipped and not quite melodic but beautiful in it’s own sharp way. He quickens his steps, the stone path making its way into view as the lovely snow covered cottage welcomes him home. Through the half fogged windows, the man can see someone crouching near the fireplace that crackles from within, holding their own hands to the frolicking orange flames. 

“Honey, I’m home,” Frostwalker calls out, his lips under the mask quirks up into a smirk as a response could be heard through the humble abode. 

“Dream, you’re finally back,” the figure at the fire leaps up, revealing a black suited young man. He had orange ski goggles over his eyes that looked more red than brown. The man runs to the Frostwalker, Dream, and stops short of touching the other, wrinkling his nose and snapping his arms to wrap around his shoulders. 

“You let the cold in.” He steps back and scurries back to the fire, glaring at the man still near the doorway. 

Dream chuckles and unstraps his mask, letting the leather straps fall away, the white mask hung on the hook. Green fur matches his green eyes and he runs a hand through his snowy hair, shaking off the flakes with vehemence before sauntering into the living space, already feeling the swelter of the fire. He sheds his coat, leaving his defined limbs to be hugged by only gray turtleneck fleece. The black suited man at the couch huffs and picks up a lighter from the side table, flicking it. 

“C’mon George, I just got home. I brought meat, like I promised.” The green eyed man flops down next to the other, George, and nuzzles in. 

“Eugh, only took you like a week.” George rolls his eyes and leans his head away, tensing slightly at the coldness that still clings to his boyfriend. Slowly, but eventually, the heat from his hands seeps into Dream where their hands are intertwined and they both relax into each other. Dream crowds closer, but is pushed off, a whine keens from his lips, a pout following. 

“You said you brought meat.” The pouty baby nods. 

“Where? We should clean and put it in the freezer before it gets stinky.” The pout turns into a smile and Dream rolls his eyes, mischief dancing in his eyes.

“It’s outside.” 

“Go get it please.”

“You go get it yourself, since you’re so concerned. It’s literally freezing outside.” George glares at the other and twiddles his fingers, lips pursed. 

“Please Dream, you know I hate the cold.” Dream only closes his eyes and leans back his head, a puff of air comes out as he sighs sinking into the couch. George shakes his shoulder, but after getting no response, scowls and stands up abruptly. 

“George?” Dream calls when he no longer feels his boyfriend’s warm hand pressed into his shoulder, cracking open an eye before sitting straight at the sight of no one. His eyes swivel around the room before landing at the entrance that shows his boyfriend in his green overcoat and boots, shaking his hands. Dream could see the goosebumps that spread across his neck and the stiff posture that George held, whether in fear or discomfort, probably both. 

“Babe?” No answer. 

“Firelight?” The Frostwalker is curious about what his boyfriend plans to do, a bit worried, but more curious. George never steps outside the house during the winter if he could help it. He was the total opposite element of Dream’s and yet they fitted in a way snow and fire shouldn’t have. 

George ignores Dream, hand yanking the oak door open. The door lets in a blast of frost and the man at the door shudders, his senses reeling at the sharp stinging pain to his face. With two deep breaths and a worried call from his lover, George scrambles out of the house, eyes in quick search for the meat carcass. He spots it next to the wood shed and hurries to drag the beast into the door. There was a thin layer of ice already frozen over the corse deer fur and he scowls in impatience. The man breathes out a sigh as the door shuts, warmth spreading across his skin. He goes to grab the rope tied to the deer again when a sharp sting erupts from his palm. With a gasp he looks down to see red strips glow across his hand. His fingers feel like they’re burning and he stumbles back and into a solid chest. 

“George, you-” colder hands wrap around his smaller warmer ones and Dream’s face leans over his shoulder. A soft breeze of wind blows across his palm from Dream. 

“I burned myself.” Dream tsks and George turns on him, pointing a finger at him. 

“This is your fault for not just bringing the poor deer in here and making your boyfriend suffer.” There’s no anger in the words, just petulant whining and Dream grabs the finger and presses a cool kiss on the heated skin.

“Mm, I’m sorry, I didn’t think you’d actually do it now.” He was only slightly apologetic, considering he had been gone for many days, he knew that George wanted to finish all chores before lazing. Dream dips his head lower til their noses brush before pressing a soft apologetic kiss to George’s, letting his cool air mingle and twine with the heat. George melts under him and Dream presses a bit harder until the shorter man draws away, lips gleaming. 

“The meat.” Dream sighs and nods, reaching behind George to grab the rope. The taller carries the half frozen carcass to the adjoint kitchen, laying it out on the marble counter. The routine of cleaning, stripping the deer of its fur is skinned off and cutting out the proportions is so ingrained that he does it in less than an hour. After making sure that all the meat was wrapped and stored away, Dream washes and wipes his hands clean of any blood before heading upstairs to where George had moved to. The study upstairs held a small library, the door was open and Dream stopped to see the other curled in an armchair, face in a book. He couldn't help but smile at the adorable scene before entering the bedroom and changing his thin fleece into a soft gray turtleneck sweatshirt. The sweatshirt is slightly big, the ends like sweater paws, it being his favorite to wear and George’s to cuddle. The fire crackles from the stove at the middle of the room and Dream sweeps in, lifts the sleepy George who had started to nod off and carries him into the bedroom. 

“You’re done?” The voice is soft, sleep filled. Warmth fills Dream as he hums, tucking both himself and his precious angel under the covers, aware that he’ll throw off half the covers from the heat in a few minutes. George nuzzles in closer, hands pressed to Dream’s chest as the latter circles a hand around his waist to pull him closer. A soft press of a kiss is felt at George’s crown of tousled brown hair before he closes his eyes, drifting off into a peaceful sleep that he hadn’t felt in days. Dream had gone hunting for so long that George had trouble sleeping, but now back in Dream’s embrace, he felt safe. It wasn’t the warmest-that was George’s job-but it felt like home and that was all that mattered. 

**Author's Note:**

> follow me [@hurricanekat_025](https://twitter.com/hurricanekat025)on twitter for minecraft tingz


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